


Piano Man

by TheUltamate



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: AU, Billy Joel - Freeform, Gen, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-09
Updated: 2011-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:32:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUltamate/pseuds/TheUltamate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an AU where humans and trolls intermingle and Sburb never happened.<br/>Inspired by the Billy Joel song "Piano Man."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Piano Man

**Author's Note:**

> Aughhh I don't know where this came from or why I wrote it but I somehow imagined John as the narrator, Karkat as the guy with gin, and Dave as the barkeep, and it all sort of went downhill from there.  
> I have forever ruined music.

I’m perched on my favorite barstool in Light Rain (not what I would have named the bar, if I ran the joint, but I guess light and rain mean something to the owner), cradling a scotch, on yet another misty Saturday, right around nine o’clock, just about the time the usual folk begin to wander in. I give a few nods and hat tips to the true faithfuls, thinking about how life can go by. How the past seems so far, and the present even farther. Life sneaks up on you, John. Ah, where does the past go? It just hides away in the back corner of your mind, hesitant to come out, not wanting to show itself, not wanting to compare itself to the current or the future.

I’m roused from my thoughts from a troll on the stool next to me. I’ve seen him around plenty before, but not enough to remember his name, it seems, but as it was, his face was worn with lines from years of frowning and scowling, and two short, almost nubby, horns peaked from his uncombed black hair. He’s nursing what appears to be a tonic and gin (a no-nonsense sort of guy, I can tell). He says,

 _”Son, can you play me a melody?  
I’m not really sure how it goes,  
But it’s sad, and it’s sweet,  
And I knew it complete  
When I wore a younger man’s clothes.  
La, la la, de de da  
La la, de de da, da da…”_

The troll trails off humming, probably a tone from his past that I might be able to recognize (he’s off-key by a landslide). Before I get a word in edgewise, he keeps talking:

 _”Sing us a song, you’re the piano man  
Sing us a song tonight  
Well, we’re all in the mood for a melody  
And you’ve got us feeling alright”_

The troll stopped and stared solemnly into his drink. He didn’t say another word. I didn’t see the need to say anything else back.

Now Dave the barkeep is a good pal of mine, and I’m not just saying that because he gets me my usual for free. Guy’s always got a joke ready, or always got his lighter on hand for when I happen to forget mine, and he’s also just a nice guy behind the aviator shades and the aloof personality. The sort of guy you’d go out and grab a drink with if he wasn’t already the bartender.

Tonight, he refills my cup of poison, pulls down his shades, and begins to tell his tale, which, as far as I know, he’s only told me, and he’s told it to me plenty of times. But every time, I politely listen. It’s what I’m here for.

 _He says ”John, I believe this is killing me”  
As the smile ran away from his face  
“Well, I’m sure that I could be a movie star  
If I could get out of this place.  
Oh, la, la la, de de da  
La la, de de da, da da…”_

And just like that, he clams up again, humming those bars the troll sang earlier, but in a different key. That tune’s really starting to get around.

Sitting at a table are Tavros and Eridan, two trolls who just never got a hold of their lives. Good ol’ Tavros spent his years caught up in his work and never found the time to settle down with a girl and just live. He’s chatting it up with Eridan, who enlisted in the Navy as a lad and will probably be in it until they force him out, or worse.

The waitress, Feferi, is going to college, studying politics. To hear her talk is really something: she says she one day will be the empress over this whole miserable little world, and to her I say good luck. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, that girl. It’s a shame she had to end up here.

As they share this drink called loneliness, they’re all buzzing with those bars that first troll hummed, and his words after it:

 _”Sing us a song, you’re the piano man  
Sing us a song tonight  
Well, we’re all in the mood for a melody  
And you’ve got us feeling alright_

Nine thirty. It’s John time. I take my place at the piano in the corner at take a brief moment for the crowd simmer down a bit. It’s a good crowd, this being a Saturday, I think, and the manager, standing against the wall in the back, seems to concur, giving me a curt nod and the closest she comes to a true smile. She knows why they’re here.

 _And the piano, it sounds like a carnival  
And the microphone smells like a beer  
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar  
And say “man, what are you doing here?”  
Oh, la, la la, de de da  
La la, de de da, da da…”_

 _“Sing us a song, you’re the piano man  
Sing us a song tonight  
Well, we’re all in the mood for a melody  
And you’ve got us feeling alright”_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I keep trying to write serious sounding fics when I have proven to myself in piles of unposted works that I cannot. Isn't insanity something along the lines of 'doing the same thing repeatedly, expecting a different result each time'?


End file.
